Being Human
by Paige242
Summary: Leading a normal life isn't easy when you're the son of Hades, but Nico was determined to give it his best shot. Future Fic, Rachel/Nico, Percy/Annabeth
1. Below the Surface

_Can't get this out of my head. Should be a few chapters long- not overly action packed but (hopefully) not too angsty either. This takes place, and fits in with, my other story- Weighing the Pros and Cons. _

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Sitting alone in the dining hall of his father's palace was certainly not how Nico di Angelo had intended to spend his afternoon.

The day had started out well enough- he had gone on the picnic with Percy, Annabeth and Rachel, as planned, and he would have enjoyed himself had it not been for the intense sun and lack of shade that plagued their chosen location. He had tried to ignore it- tried to be normal- but the throbbing pain in his head and the burning sensation on his skin had driven him to his breaking point.

He had only lasted twenty minutes before muttering something about food poisoning and excusing himself. The other three had looked concerned, but (thankfully) they seemed to buy his excuse- Rachel had even offered to drive him home, but he had quickly declined.

Despite what he had told them, he had had no intention of going back to his apartment. Sure, being in his dark room would have been preferable to being outside, but he also knew that he needed more than simple shade by that point.

Nico was well aware that there was only one place for him to go when he started feeling ill, and he had stumbled towards the nearest patch of shade (which was nearly a bock and a half away) before quickly willing the shadows to carry him down to the Underworld.

When he had arrived in his father's palace, the relief had been instant. The burning sensation had gone away and a sense of relief had washed over him. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew that his body was happy to be where it belonged- in the dank and cavernous depths of his father's domain. He marvelled at how it was possible to both love and hate a place so intensely.

The logical side of his brain wanted nothing more than to be back on the surface, enjoying a nice, normal, day by the ocean with his friends- but the more instinctual part of him yearned to be here, in a place that most people would have found unbelievably depressing. He wished there was a way to turn that part of him off, but he knew that that was impossible.

Like it or not, he was a son of Hades, and this was where he belonged.

That fact had become harder and harder to ignore in recent years- as his powers had grown, so had his need for this place, and his aversion to life above ground. As that day, and his lingering headache, had made painfully clear, he simply wasn't made to enjoy a sunny, summer afternoon. His body craved darkness and shadows, and he could never completely ignore the call of the Underworld.

It was some consolation to know that Percy had faced similar challenges in recent years- but even then, yearning for the sea seemed a lot less freakish. Nico would have traded with his cousin in an instant- though he doubted that his father would be pleased if he ever admitted that out loud.

To be honest, it was really nothing personal- Nico knew he was lucky that he was closer to his godly parent better than most demigods, and his dad really wasn't all that bad when you got past the tough bravado. When he was younger, had had been terrified of the lord of the dead but, having nowhere else to go when not at camp, he had ended up spending a fair bit of time in the Underworld. It had been very uncomfortable at first, and he had felt more like an unwanted guest than part of the family- but in the wake of the battle with the Titians, his father had gradually let his guard down around his son. In recent years they had (shockingly) even developed some semblance of a parent-child relationship. Hades would never admit it, but Nico knew that he cared about him- and the day he had realized that had been one of the best he could remember.

With a deep sigh, Nico brought his hand towards his throbbing head. The headache was fading, but not quite as quickly as his other symptoms. It was his own fault, really, for forgetting to bring his sunglasses- it had been nearly impossible to go outside without them for the past three years, but had stupidly decided to test his limits.

He vowed never do so again. The pain simply wasn't worth putting up a brief facade of normalcy.

Nico began to contemplate heading upstairs to have a lie down in his room when the sound of footsteps distracted him. He sat up abruptly and, seconds later, the door to the dining chamber opened to reveal his father- dressed in his casual "Mick Jagger" style attire (as Percy once deemed it).

The god's expression remained blank, but Nico could tell from his relaxed body language that he was (thankfully) not angry to see him.

"Nico." Hades greeted him curtly, taking a few steps into the room. "I thought I sensed you in here, but I did not expect a visit today."

"Yeah, sorry Dad." The young man replied, leaning back in his chair. "It was unplanned."

For a moment, his father said nothing and he made his way to the chair at the opposite end of the dining table. Though he had grown fond of his son in recent years, he always kept his distance- Nico had never been hugged by his father, and knew he never would be. The Lord of the Dead had a soft side, but it wasn't _that_ soft.

After a long pause, the god finally spoke. "Well then, why have you come?"

Nico tried to suppress a smirk- his dad was always frank and was not one for pleasantries. That suited the young man just fine.

"I was supposed be out with Percy, Annabeth and Rachel this afternoon- but the sun was overwhelming." He paused, looking down at the dark wood table. Maybe complaining to his father wasn't the best idea- he had mentioned his worsening symptoms to his father before, but had received very little reaction- it was as if the god simply could not understand why this was a problem. Sighing, he decided to continue anyway. "It's getting harder and harder to go outside in the daylight now. I could only handle it for a little while, and I needed to come down here to recover. I don't know how much worse it is going to get..."

Unfortunately, Hades did not offer any of the comfort he had desired.

Quite the contrary.

"Ah, excellent." He began, completely missing the dejected tone in his son's voice. "You're becoming more and more like me every day."

The gods really could be oblivious sometimes.

Nico's insides churned, but he hoped his face did not show his discomfort. He didn't want to insult his father, but becoming more like the King of Death was not what most young men in their mid-twenties wanted. He wanted to be normal- to enjoy time with his friends- to find a girl who wasn't revolted by his oddities...

But the older he got, and the more his divine half took hold of him, the more that seemed like a hopeless fantasy. No normal person was going to want to be around him if he stayed inside all day and spent long stretches of time in the Underworld. That's why he had been trying so hard to hide what had been happening to him- to resist. But he knew that ultimately, it would be a losing battle.

He couldn't hide forever.

"Perhaps you should reconsider my offer."

His father's voice broke him out of his trance and he directed his gaze towards the god, knowing what was coming next. Hades had been trying to convince him to join him, permanently, in the Underworld. The god wanted a lieutenant to help him with his tasks and, about five years ago, he had decided that Nico should be the one to fill the post. The young man was flattered, and could see his father's logic- Hades had had far fewer children than the other gods and Nico, for some unknown reason, had been the first to live into adulthood without becoming a crazed lunatic.

As far as Hades was concerned, he was the perfect candidate- powerful, handsome, heroic and (most shockingly) sane- but the boy had repeatedly declined, calming that he wanted to enjoy a normal life like everyone else.

Hades, perhaps surprisingly, had never tried to force him to comply- but that didn't stop him from making repeated attempts to convince his son to join him.

Unfortunately for the god, his son's determination had not yet faltered.

"No. I can't." He replied quietly.

Nico knew he was risking is father's wrath and, frankly, the offer did have its temptations- but there were still certain things...and certain people...that kept him tethered to the surface.

He wasn't ready to give up- not now.

Most who didn't know the Lord of the Dead would have expected him to release his vengeance on his defiant son- but, as Nico had often tried to convince people, the god's reputation was a bit unfair.

Rather than engulfing the young man in a column of hell fire, or turning him into a pile of ash, Hades simply smirked and leaned further back in his chair. Clasping his hands in front of him, he stared intently at the young man before declaring: "You're just as stubborn as Maria."

Nico smirked back, deciding to take that as a compliment. It was still painful to hear mentions of the mother he couldn't remember, but the note of affection in his father's voice was a source of great comfort. He could tell that Hades had truly cared for her, and he often wondered if that was part of the reason why he had turned out relatively okay.

Maybe children of Hades born out of love had a fighting chance...

"You will say yes eventually." The god continued smugly, adjusting one of the skull buttons on his leather vest. "This is where you belong."

Nico's stomach churned again, and he hated that he could not deny his father's statement. The Underworld was the only place where he felt _right_, and he wondered how long he could resist its call.

"Perhaps." He conceded. "But not yet. I'm not ready to give up on being human. I have friends. A job..."

_Rachel. _

The last word flickered through his head, but he quickly pushed it aside. Despite his annoyingly persistent infatuation, he knew that couldn't think about her. Not like that. The thought of the un-loveable son on Hades and the untouchable Oracle was simply too absurd.

They were a match made in hell.

"You'll never be human, Nico."

His father, blunt as always, distracted him from his train of thought.

"I know."

Hoping to avoid another uncomfortable topic they had touched on many times before, Nico stood up from the table. The headache was still present, but he felt well enough to return to the surface. As long as he stayed inside until it got dark he was pretty sure that he'd be okay.

"I should be going." He said, nodding towards his father. "I'll pop in next weekend to see if you need help with anything."

The god said nothing and, after another awkward moment, Nico willed the shadows to whisk him away.

Hades knew that he should have stopped him- should have forced him to accept his fate- but the image of a beautiful woman with deep brown eyes held him back. As much as he hated not getting his way, and loathed seeing his son toil away on the surface like a lowly human, he owed it to Maria to let their son do as he wished.

He could only hope that the boy would come to his senses soon...

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A/N Good, bad, ugly? To me, the hardest bit was writing Hades- I want to have him care for his son, without seeming too soft. Let me know what you think.

The next bit should be much heavier on the romance.


	2. Knock Three Times

_Knock, Knock, Knock. _

Nico groaned and reluctantly got to his feet. He had returned from the underworld several hours ago, and had spent the remainder of the day lounging around on the couch watching trashy afternoon T.V.

He still wasn't feeling great, but at least the absurd talk shows he had been watching had cheered him up a bit- being the demigod son of Hades might have sucked sometimes...but at least he wasn't married to a woman who was secretly a man _and_ a convicted ex-felon, like the last guest on the show.

Nico finally understood why people watched this crap- his life seemed absolutely peachy in comparison.

_Knock, Knock, Knock. _

Sighing, he slowly walked towards the door. He had hoped that whoever it was would take his lack of response as a hint and go away, but apparently he was not having a lucky day. The person at the door was annoyingly persistent and, seconds later, he realized why.

"If you don't open the door this instant, Skull Boy, you'll be even more dead then you already are."

He recognized the voice immediately and, when he finally flung the door open, he was not surprised to find Rachel Elizabeth Dare on the other side.

Before he had time to greet her, the twenty-seven year old redhead pushed her way into his small apartment and placed the bags she had been carrying on a near-by table.

"About time!" She declared as she turned around to face him.

Nico smirked. He knew he shouldn't have been amused by her annoyance, but the sight of her standing in his hallway with her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed was strangely entertaining.

_It was also strangely alluring..._

"Worried about me?" He asked, shooting her his best cocky grin.

"Yes, despite my better judgement. It must be the humanitarian in me." She shot back.

He was about to reply when she took a quick step towards him and placed a warn hand on his forehead. Nico hoped that she couldn't see the slight flush in his cheeks, and he did his best to ignore the strange feeling in his stomach.

_It's just Rachel. _

_She's just a friend. _

"You're freezing cold." Rachel declared, removing her hand just as abruptly as she had placed it there. "And you look like death."

For a moment, he thought she was cracking a joke- but a quick glance at her face showed that she had not realized exactly what she had said.

He let out a soft laugh as she reached into one of the bags she had brought and began shuffling around for something.

"I'm always freezing cold." Nico pointed out as she continued her frantic search. "And yes, people do say I look quite a bit like my father."

If Rachel heard him, she didn't acknowledge it- instead, she pulled a pink package out of her bag and popped open the lid.

"Gravol." She said, handing him the open bottle. "It should help settle your stomach. And once that kicks in, I brought some chicken soup for you to eat- you need to get some fluid back into you. Now stop being a smart-ass and take some."

He took the bottle and watched as she began shuffling through the bags again- it was an amusing sight, and he was touched by her concern- but Nico figured that it was only right to admit to his lie. She had clearly believed his line about food poisoning, and she had arrived with an arsenal of supplies to combat his fabricated illness.

He owed her the truth.

"Rachel." He reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, causing her to turn abruptly. "I appreciate all of this, I really do- but...well...I'm not actually sick. Well, not from food poisoning."

Anger flashed across her face. "What? So you just needed an excuse not to hang out with m...us, then?"

"No, it's not like that." He corrected her quickly. "I was sick- but not from some normal human thing. Gods, I _wish _it had been food poisoning..."

The redhead folded her arms across her chest, and gave him one of her deadly glares. As much as he didn't want to talk about it (because really, no one needed to know what a huge freak he really was) he knew that he had little choice.

After a long pause, he forced himself to spit it out.

"It was the daylight."

Rachel arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his answer.

"So...you're a demigod_ and_ a vampire now?" She asked with a smirk. "Nice try, Skull Boy."

"I'm not a vampire." He protested, rolling his eyes. Leave it to Rachel to come up with the most absurd spin on things. "I just...recently...I can't really go out in the sun anymore."

"And you're sure this has nothing to do with being bitten in the neck by a nocturnal blood sucker? Because that girl you were flirting with at McNeil's Pub last week kind of looked like the type."

Nico rolled his eyes, remembering the goth girl who had come onto him when he had been out with Rachel, Percy and Annabeth last week. The girl had been nice enough, but Rachel had quickly put an end to their chatting by coming up to them and asking Nico if his haemorrhoids had been getting any worse lately.

He had not been amused.

"There was nothing wrong with Amanda. And no, it has nothing to do with that." He paused, running a hand through his shaggy dark hair- gods, he wished she would drop it...but this was Rachel, and he knew she never would. "You know how Percy doesn't feel too well when he gets far from the water, right?" He began again.

She nodded.

"Well, the same sort of thing has been happening to me lately. Except in my case, I react badly to daylight. I figure it must be one of the not-so- pleasant side effects of being the son of one of the big three. Because of...who I am...my body craves darkness."

Rachel paused for a moment, and he tried not to look too uncomfortable as she gave him a once over. Thankfully, she didn't look too repulsed, and he figured (after all of the strange things she had seen in her lifetime) this wasn't such a huge deal.

"Gods, just when I thought you couldn't get any more emo..." She muttered with a small shake of her head.

Despite his desire to protest, he let the comment slide- this really wasn't the time to rehash that old argument. Sure, he liked black and was rather attached to the skull ring his father had given him- but (as he had argued many, many times) he was not some lame emo goth. Which was quite the accomplishment, really, considering who he was.

"Well, it's not like I asked for this." He muttered back, turning towards the kitchen. "Quite the contrary."

Much to his surprise, Rachel followed him into the other room and, when he glanced at her, he could see a hint of sympathy in her eyes.

A few moments later, she spoke. "Look, I didn't mean to joke about it." She admitted, plopping herself down at the small table. "You did look pretty terrible this afternoon, so it must have been bad."

Nico shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant as he leaned against the counter. Although he would have preferred to avoid this conversation, he had to admit that it was nice to have her there- sitting at his kitchen table like it was the most natural thing in the world. It felt...right.

"Yeah, well, I'll just add it to my list of reasons why I'm a freak." He stated, trying to smile.

Unfortunately, she could sense the seriousness in his voice. She was far more perceptive than his father.

"You're not a freak, Nico." She said, all hint of annoyance now gone from her voice. For once, Rachel did not seem keen to taunt him- and, at that moment, it was much appreciated.

He only wished he could believe her.

"Hmm, let's think about that for a moment." He began, unable to mask the bitterness in his tone. "I was born in the 1930s- but I look twenty-five, my father is a Greek god, I have dominion over the dead, I can summon skeleton armies, I can travel through shadows, my body temperature is about twenty degrees too low, I kill plants when I touch them...should I keep going?"

He looked up to see Rachel still sitting at the table, looking completely non-pulsed. "Okay." She shrugged. "She maybe you're a bit different- but so what? It's cool. "

Nico scoffed. "That's not the word I'd use."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going to sit here and let you go all dark and broody on me. You may not have food poisoning, but I still have some perfectly good chicken soup in the hallway- and a few movies as well." She stood up and took a few steps towards him. "So I vote that we have some dinner and then watch Brad Pitt run around in Greek armour for three hours."

Despite himself, Nico laughed. "You rented _Troy_? Again?"

It was Rachel's favourite movie, and he had already sat through it countless times- it had become so pathetic at this point that they had even begun to recite certain scenes when they watched.

"What can I say." She shot back as she made her way towards the hallway. "I have a thing for guys in armour."

For the briefest of seconds, he contemplated telling her that he had a full set of Greek armour hanging in his closet but he quickly shook the thought away.

They were just two friends, enjoying a relaxing evening after a long and unpleasant day.

At that moment, chicken soup and old movies with Rachel sounded like the best thing in the world, and he vowed not to make things any more complicated than that.

She always knew the right thing to say, and had an unparalleled ability to pull him out of his ruts.

He needed this.

He needed _her._

It was moments like these that kept him feeling human.


	3. What Should Be

Usually, Nico didn't like to use his powers for everyday things. Sure, he could have summoned skeletons to clean his apartment, or saved money on subway fare by shadow travelling everywhere...but he had decided against such practices a long time ago.

It just didn't seem right, and using his powers only served to remind him of just how different he really was.

Today, however, he decided to make an exception. Rachel had been at his apartment watching movies till nearly 1 am, and he still wasn't fully recovered from the day before- so he figured that catching an extra hour of sleep and shadow travelling to work was justified.

Thankfully, the alley behind the Manhattan Italian-American Cultural Centre was empty when he stepped out of the shadows, and he brusquely made his way towards the front doors unnoticed. As usual, a few staff members and a couple of regulars were already inside, and he greeted them with a wave as he took off his dark sunglasses. It was, thankfully, much cloudier than the day before, and Nico was perfectly fine outside- not that it really mattered much- he would be inside for most of the day, and that was one of the reasons this job had worked out so well.

He had been working there for almost three years now, and he thanked the gods that he had stumbled across the place. It had been a stroke of luck, really. He had been wandering around one evening when he had spotted an advertisement for free Italian lessons at the Italian Cultural Centre- although he knew he had been born in Venice and it was (most likely) his first language, he hadn't really thought about learning Italian before. It had faded away during his years in the Lotus Casino and (although he remembered the odd word and tended to let out Italian profanities when tired) he thought it was almost completely gone.

Having nothing better to do, he had decided to attend the classes and had astounded the teachers by his extremely quick grasp on the language. By the end of his first month, he was nearly as fluent as they were and the president of the Centre had keenly offered him a job.

While he did teach the occasional class, he had found that more physical jobs were better suited to his temperament (he, like all demigods, had his ADHD to deal with) and he had happily become a Jack of all trades. He did repairs, hosted events, helped manage the cafe- anything and everything that was needed.

When his father had found out, he had not hidden his disgust and shouted something about the prince of the underworld being reduced to menial labour. But Nico didn't care- he was content and, more importantly, he enjoyed the people he worked with. It was his only escape from the world of demigods and monsters, and being surrounded by good, caring,_ normal_ people was nice.

"Nico, il mio ragazzo!"

The young man turned towards the cheerful voice on his left and grinned as he caught sight of one of his favourite people. Alonzo Rossi (known commonly as "Al") was a good natured man in his late seventies- now retired, Al spent a fair bit of time at the Cultural Centre and was affectionaly referred to as "Nunno" (Grandfather) by most of the younger members- Nico included.

Al had quickly latched on to Nico- and vice versa- soon after he had started working there and he was now the closest thing that Nico had to a regular family member. Although he had never told Al everything, the old man had always been there to lend an ear when needed, and the young man valued his advice and companionship.

"Good morning, Nunno." Nico replied with a smile as he stepped towards were the older man was sitting. "You're here early today."

"Of course I am!" Al replied enthusiastically before proudly adjusting his blue scarf. "I need to get a good seat to watch Venice crush Milan in the final."

"Keep dreaming, Al." Another voice shouted from across the room. "Venice lost the Coppa Italia last year, and they're going to lose it again."

"That's enough out of you, Denis." Al called back, shaking his head in mock disgust before turning back to Nico. "I know who you'll be cheering for, of course." He stated with a crinkly smile.

To be honest, Nico had never cared much about soccer- or any sport for that matter- but for Al's sake, he smiled back.

"You know I'm a good Venetian." He replied.

Al nodded and gave him a small wink. "We've got to stick together."

The young man grinned, and offered Al a hand as he began to rise from his regular chair in the front lobby. His arthritis had gotten worse in recent years, and moving was now much harder than it had been before. But despite his pain, Al was always the life of the party.

As he began to help guide Al down the hallway, it struck Nico that this very easily could have- should have- been him. Technically, he was two years older than Al- and if it hadn't been for the whole demigod prophecy thing, he very easily could have been an aged Italian immigrant, hobbling down this very same marble hallway.

Maybe that was why he had latched onto the other man- perhaps he had seen a glimpse of himself...a glimpse of what should have been...

"So, tell me. What has happened since I last saw you?"

Al's voice snapped him away from his mussing, but he hesitated before answering.

He had contemplating telling Al the truth on several occasions- of any mortal, he knew that Al was someone he could trust- but he had decided that it was easier to bend the truth. Al was a man who was set in his ways, and trying to convince him that the world of the Greek gods was real was not something Nico wanted to do. He would have hated to upset him...and besides, it was nice to pretend to be a regular guy.

"Nothing too exciting. I was feeling under the weather yesterday." Nico replied with a small sigh. "And my father and I had another talk- he still thinks I need a career change."

The old man waved his hand as he continued to walk. "Bah." He began. "Only you know what's right for you. My father wanted me to stay at home and become a tailor- imagine how terrible that would have been!" He gestured down at the frayed hem of his jacket. "I can't even manage to fix my own clothes, just think what I would have done to other peoples. Venice would have had to become a nudist colony."

Nico chuckled. It was true, Al was not known for his neat clothing and had been very content running a cafe in the lower east side before he retired. He was a people person with a love for coffee, and it was hard to picture him cooped up in a dark sewing room all day.

"My dad can be a little...intimidating." Nico continued. "But he isn't forcing me into anything yet."

"Good- and if he gives you any trouble then send him to me." Al sated with a nod. Nico knew that a face-off between a frail old man and the Lord of the Dead would not end well for Al, but he nodded anyway.

It was the thought that counted.

"Now tell me, how are things with your Rachel- it had been a while since she came for a visit."

Nico instantly felt himself blush and he hoped that his companion didn't notice.

She had come by to visit him at work a few times in the past couple of years and while Nico had thought that he had perfected the art of seeming nonchalant around her, Al had instantly noticed his hidden affection for her.

The man was much too observant for his own good.

"She's not _my_ Rachel." The young man replied as they approached the television room. "And things are...complicated. Her...boss is kind of strict about relationship things, and I'm still not sure..."

"Her boss?" Al raised an eye brow. "Well, you know I'm not one to pry, but I don't see why someone's boss should have any say over his employee's relationships."

Nico sighed as he helped Al settle down into a nearby chair, right in front of the large television.

"It's complicated."

"Love is always complicated." Al replied.

Nico could feel his cheeks heating up, and he turned away from his friend, hoping to hide his discomfort. He wished he could tell him the whole story- explaining that she was the virginal oracle of Apollo would have cleared a lot of things up. As it was, he feared that he had made her sound like some sort of prostitute (after all, that was one line of work where ones boss might care about your romantic commitments...).

She'd kill him if she ever found out.

Nico looked down at the carpet before muttering. "You have no idea."

Drawing a deep breath, he turned back towards the older man and tried to push a certain redhead from his thoughts.

"Is there anything I can get you, Nunno?"

"No." Al replied, "But I expect to see you in the television room later." After shooting him a cheerful smile, he gave Nico a light pat on the wrist. "Game starts at noon."

"I'll do my best." Nico promised. "Mario said we should be able to join you once we get the dishwasher repaired."

"Buon!" The old man declared, patting his blue scarf in anticipation. "I will see you soon."

Nico began to walk out of the room, but Al's voice stopped him before he reached the threshold.

"Nico," He began, turning in his seat to face the young man. "Try not to frown so much. Things _will_ get better. I can feel it."

Despite himself, Nico smiled back. "Don't worry about me, Al." He replied. "Just worry about the game. Viva Venezia, right?"

Al grinned. "Viva Venezia!"

And with that, he walked back into the hallway, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

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A/N- Reviews would be grand! Tell me what you think- I am always wary of adding OCs, but this should have a point.


	4. Awkward Moments

Nico knew that his attempt to look at ease was probably failing miserably.

He wasn't the sort of person who attended upscale art openings, and he felt completely out of his element in the large, elegant room. Although he had known that it was going to be a formal event, but he hadn't expected it to be quite_ this_ formal- his black dress pants and button down shirt were a little too casual for the occasion. Several of the other men were wearing tuxedos, and most of the women were decked out in jewels and long gowns...he was also pretty sure that he had just seen the mayor walk past, and the man around the corner looked a hell of a lot like Donald Trump.

When Rachel had invited them to see a charity exhibit she and some of her art school friends had put together, he didn't think they would be sipping martinis with New York's most elite citizens. Somehow, she had failed to mention that the exhibit was a pretty big deal- "_We're just auctioning off a few new paintings_," she had said, "_but hopefully we'll get a decent crowd_."

It was some consolation to see that Percy looked just as uncomfortable as he did- after standing awkwardly in the corner with him for the first half hour the other demigod had been dragged across the room by Annabeth, who was rambling on about seeing some architect named Fred Gehry or something. She was currently wrapped up in an excited conversation with an elderly man while Percy stood at her side and gave the occasional nod and struggled to suppress his boredom.

Nico was pretty sure that Percy would have preferred to be wrestling with a minotaur.

Actually, that didn't sound so terrible right about now.

He had never been a very outgoing person, and had made a habit of avoiding large social gatherings. In his opinion, anything was better than standing alone in a crowded room looking incredibly awkward. Unfortunately, he also couldn't say no to Rachel...especially when she looked up at him with those big, brown eyes. She was his weakness, and there didn't seem to be anything he could to about it...

"Nico!"

The young man turned to see Rachel standing behind him, a wide grin on her freckled face.

"I'm so happy you could make it!" She declared, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug.

He tried, and failed, to ignore how good her touch felt.

She seemed to fit perfectly against his six-foot-four frame.

As she pulled back, Nico returned her smile. She, like most of the female attendees, was wearing a formal silk gown and he could not help but notice that it hugged her in all of the right places. It was no secret that she came from a wealthy family, but he had never really seen her in full-socialite mode before. Although he knew how much she hated formal events, there was no denying that she possessed the poise necessary to fit right in.

"Glad I could come," he replied, "you look amazing."

He instantly chided himself for saying the second statement out loud but, thankfully, Rachel didn't seem to mind.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, Dead Boy," she stated as the faintest of blushes crept onto her cheeks. "It's nice to know that you can, in fact, leave the house without that ratty leather jacket of yours."

Nico smirked.

She had been bugging him about his favourite coat for almost as long as he had had it, and thus he always made sure to wear it when they were getting together...partially because he knew it would elicit a patented Rachel Elizabeth Dare eye roll and scowl.

Perhaps it was slightly twisted, but he liked pushing her buttons almost as much as he liked making happy.

"Don't worry, it's in Percy's car. I can go get it if you'd like."

She quickly shook her head. "I think a break from the James Dean wannabe look will do you some good."

Nico laughed again. "Fair enough," he began, "but I wish you had told us that this event was going to be so formal. I feel underdressed- and that woman in the yellow gown keeps glaring at me."

He chanced a quick glance at the middle-aged (and heavily botoxed) woman across the room- she had been gliding around all night, chatting with most of the guests and letting out the occasional forced laugh. When she had passed by him earlier, her fake smile had faded, and she had shot him an intimidating glare which had made him feel even more out of place than before.

She had been sending him some seriously unfriendly vibes all evening.

Rachel followed his gaze before letting out a small sigh. "Oh," she began quietly, "That's Sophia- she's been filling in for the assistant curator over the past few months. Don't take it personally, she hates everyone- especially me. She probably assumed that you were one of my guests."

A look of realization crossed his face, and he nodded. Rachel had complained about her co-worker before and he could recall hearing about an argument a few weeks ago which had ended with both women drenched in white paint.

He should have guessed.

"Ignore her, you fit in just fine," Rachel assured him.

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a quick once over before reaching out and adjusting his deep red tie. "You've got the right sort of regal look going for you. Must be the whole 'Prince of the Underworld' thing," she stated playfully.

Nico knew she was just making light conversation, and probably meant it as a compliment, but her last statement made his insides churn. After the events of the past few days, hearing that looked the part his father wanted him to play was_ not_ reassuring.

He wanted to forget about that entire situation and enjoy a nice, normal, night...he wanted to pretend to be someone else...even if that meant that he was just as fake and superficial as all of the socialites in the room.

The facade was comforting.

Looking down at the ground, the young man cleared his throat and quickly tried to change the topic.

"The paintings look great," he began, choosing the most obvious conversation topic of the evening, "when does the auction start?"

"In about half an hour," Rachel replied. "That is really the only reason I got involved in this whole thing- I'd rather gouge out my own eyes then talk to some of these people, I feel ridiculous in this dress, and I can't believe I agreed to get my hair done by my mother's stylist." She gestured towards her fancy up-do and rolled her eyes.

Personally, Nico thought she looked gorgeous, but there was no way in Hades he would dare to say so.

"But if we sell some of the paintings, all of the money goes to the children's hospital," she continued, "and I couldn't say no when they asked me to take part."

Nico smiled. Her determination to help every cause she could was something he had always admired about Rachel- she might have been abrasive and short tempered at times, but she always put others first. Ever since she had established herself as a semi-notable artist, she had found many inventive ways to help the community with her work.

He often thought that the world needed more people like Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

"I also hated calling on my dad to help with the publicity," the young woman continued, her scowl darkening, "but I figure if I am suck with an annoying family, I might as well do what I can to take advantage of it."

Nico nodded- she made a fair point and he wondered, briefly, how he might apply that logic to his own situation.

Before he could respond, however, another voice interrupted their conversation. A young woman with brown hair had come up beside them, and she looked eager to get Rachel's attention.

"They need you in the other room." She said, turning towards the redhead. "The auctioneer wants to ask you a few things before he starts setting up."

"Sure, no problem," Rachel replied, "I'll be there in just a second."

After giving Nico a bashful glance, the girl scurried away.

Rachel sighed.

"Sorry, guess I had better go."

"No problem," He replied, hoping that he was masking his disappointment well. She was the only reason he was here, and he didn't want her to go.

"I'll see you later?"

"Of course." And with that, Rachel popped onto her toes (quite the feat, in four inch heels) and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back soon."

As he watched her dash into the next room, Nico could feel his cheeks heating up. Sure, she had given him the occasional peck on the cheek before...and maybe he was reading too much into it...but gods, she knew just how to drive him mad.

He could still feel where her lips had been, and he wanted nothing more than to feel them again.

His body temperature may have been abnormally low, but every time she touched him, he felt like he was on fire.

_He felt alive..._

"What sort of expression is that?"

A voice interrupted his thoughts, and Nico broke out of his daze to see Percy standing in front of him.

"You look like you've been shot by Eros," the other demigod continued with a smirk.

Nico quickly tried to regain his composure. "Nothing. Not Rachel. No one. I'm fine." He stuttered, failing to mask his flustered state.

He was an absolutely terrible actor.

As always, Percy wasn't buying it and Nico could see the realization- and pity- in his green eyes.

"Ah, come on man," the older man began, patting his cousin on the shoulder, "you've got to work on getting over this crush."

Nico shot him his best glare, but his cousin did not seem intimidated.

"Remember that girl I work with- Clara? She keeps asking about you. How about I set you guys up next week- she's really great, loves dolphins and-"

"That isn't helping, Percy," Nico cut in, stopping his cousin in mid-sentence. He didn't want to go out with some girl his cousin worked with- in fact, he didn't want to go out with _any _girl...expect for her.

Percy was well aware of his long-time infatuation with Rachel but, no matter how many times Nico tried to explain himself, the son of Poseidon never really seemed to get it. He was constantly trying to set Nico up with other girls, and urged him to move on from his forbidden desire. A few years ago, Nico had given Percy's approach a try and had gone on a string of dates- it had been sort of fun for awhile, and had led to a few one-night stands and short affairs...but nothing had ever felt right. He knew that it made him sound like a horrible person, but he had never had any feelings for those girls, and it wasn't fair to them (or him) to pretend otherwise. Perhaps it sounded cliché, but he only had eyes for one person- it just really,_ really_, sucked that she happened to be completely off limits.

Unfortunately, no amount of logic or reasoning could change his feelings.

And, he supposed, it didn't help that he and Rachel had been spending so much time together in recent years. Even when he had been mildly interested in another girl, her constant presence would quickly push all other thoughts from his mind. In an odd way, it often felt that they were together- they certainly bickered like a married couple, and they spent enough time at each other's apartments to make any onlooker suspicious- at this point, going out with another girl would have felt like cheating...even though he knew they weren't together and wasn't even certain if his feelings were mutual.

It was a totally messed up situation- but then, so was just about everything in his life right now.

"Alright, fine." Percy said, clearly deciding to give up, "but you can't keep this up forever." He paused, giving his cousin a sympathetic look. "And you know you can't have her, Nico- as much as you both may want it. This is bigger then you...if you did anything, Apollo would be out for blood and your father would probably fight back. We'd have a war on our hands."

Nico scowled and looked down at the marble floor. He knew Percy was right, and he had considered the possible outcomes countless times before- but the truth hurt, he wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"I'm going to go outside and get some air." He muttered, not bothering to look up at his cousin as he turned towards the front door.

He heard Percy sigh in frustration but, at that particular moment, he didn't really care if the other demigod was annoyed. Percy would never get it- he loved Annabeth, and they were together. They would be married in a few months, and it was probably only a matter of time before a brood of intelligent, aquatic babies began to appear.

It was simple.

_Normal. _

And he couldn't help but be jealous.

Nico could see the blissful, silent darkness through the glass door, and he quickened his pace to reach it faster.

He needed a break.

He needed to get away.

As he reached out for the brass handle, however, his escape was interrupted.

The second his hand touched the cold metal a loud scream echoed through the room. His instincts instantly kicked in, and Nico whirled around to see a fifty-foot serpent crash through one of the gallery's windows.

It was massive.

And it was heading straight towards him...

_The night just kept getting better and better._

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A/N Small cliff-hanger for you- reviews will inspire faster updates!

Thanks for all of the reviews last time- I really appreciate it!

ForeverSisters- thanks, I was rather proud of that line. I look forward to the picture!

E. M. Zeray- Thanks for all of the reviews!

genkigeek- Thanks for the review and the writing complments!

Mission to Marzipan- Thanks so much, and I am very glad you liked Al! Also thanks for the note about dialogue- I tried to be better this time. I admit, I do write a lot, but not fiction- so I had never put much thought into proper grammar for writing speech. I do appreciate the input and hope the mistakes were not too distracting.

Kioko- I'm not gonna lie, I am VERY flattered that you reviewed- I love your stories, and you're the one that converted me to the Rachel/Nico ship. Now that I know you're reading I feel the pressure, but I'll do my best not to let you down (nothing can ever live up to Death's Dare, but I felt the need to play around with some of my ideas). Thanks so much!

theBlackOrange- I am pleased, and shocked, that my Italian is passable. I just use literal translations because I don't speak a word of it. The input is much appreciated, and I am glad you like it so far!


	5. Target

One of the most important things that every demigod learned at a young age was that monster attacks could happen anytime and anywhere.

Sure, things had been a bit calmer in the wake of the Titan war, but there were still countless creatures on the loose who craved the taste of divine blood. As one of the most powerful half-bloods in existence, Nico had grown accustomed to dealing with approximately one monster attack per month- though (luckily) they didn't tend to occur when he was surrounded by hundreds of mortals.

Unfortunately, it now appeared that his luck had run out.

In the seconds after the massive serpent had burst through the window, the gallery had gone from a state of civility to one of absolute chaos. Nico wasn't sure how much the mortals could see through the mist but, apparently, they could see enough to know that something bad was about to go down. Shouts and screams filled the room and he was nearly knocked over as several people made a mad dash for the doorway.

This was not, however, the moment to worry about exposure. The beast seemed to be headed straight towards him, and he knew he only had seconds to prepare himself for a fight. His pulse pounding, and his demigod instincts kicking into high gear, Nico lunged into the nearest shadowy corner and summoned his sword. As soon as he felt the cold iron materialize in his hand he turned and braced himself for an attack.

It was not a moment too soon.

The beast seemed to be capable of moving at an alarming speed, and was already mere feet away. He didn't have long to take in its appearance, but it was defiantly one of the ugliest creatures he had faced in recent years. Rough brown scales, large yellow eyes, and a row of massive fangs that were dripping with some sort of putrid smelling substance...he had no idea what it was, but it wasn't pretty, and it _definitely_ wasn't happy.

Nico lunged to the left as the serpent mounted its first attack- he could almost feel its hot breath but, thankfully, he moved far enough away to avoid contact with the (undoubtedly venomous) fangs. Quickly steadying himself, the young man swung his sword at the creature and made contact with its neck- unfortunately, his weapon hardly seemed to have any impact. The scales were even harder than they looked.

Nico barely had time to process this fact before the serpent lunged again. This time, the demigod managed to pull back into a nearby corner, and used the shadows to whisk himself to the other side of the room. He knew he was only prolonging the battle, but needed a moment to reassess his strategy- clearly, regular weapons would not be enough.

When he re-emerged, he was relieved to find that Percy and Annabeth were close by- both had their weapons drawn, and both were readying themselves for the next attack.

He wondered, briefly, where Rachel was. He knew he didn't have time to worry, but he prayed that she had stayed out of the room. She may have been able to see the monster in its true form, but she was still human, and didn't have the same training and reflexes that they did.

"Sword didn't hurt it." Nico shouted at his companions. "Need to find a weakness."

The beast had recovered from its confusion and was heading towards them once again.

His mind was racing but, before he could come up with another tactic, he saw his cousin spring into action. He watched as Percy raised his spare hand and listened as, seconds later, a loud cracking noise echoed through the room. The water that had been flowing through the buildings plumbing broke through the walls and, moments later, an impressive wave had gathered in front of Percy.

With another quick gesture, the other demigod sent it directly at the serpent and the creature let out a loud hiss as the wave crashed into it. Nico found himself hoping that its weakness had been found- but that, of course, would have been much too easy.

The beast crashed against the opposite wall- shattering several more windows and destroying all of the nearby artwork- but it quickly regained its bearings and turned to face them once again.

"Split up." He heard Annabeth shout. "Confuse it."

Nico nodded ran towards the left side of the room. Thankfully, most the mortals had now fled the scene- though he figured it was only a matter of time before the police arrived. The gallery was a wreck, and he was certain that several of the guests had already called 911.

They needed to kill this thing.

And get the hell out of there.

Fast.

Annabeth ended up closest to the serpent, and Nico watched as she took a few swipes at it with her sword. As had been the case with his attempts, the weapon seemed to do very little damage. Fortunately for her, however, the creature didn't seem to be all that interested in retaliating and it turned its attention in the other direction.

Towards him.

Yep. He was definitely the target.

Although he knew it wouldn't do much damage, Nico readied his sword once again and braced himself for the next attack. The serpent took off towards him but, before it could reach its goal the arrival of a fourth figure momentarily distracted it.

"Hey, garbage breath!" The redhead yelled, brandishing a dagger at the monster as she came running into the room.

Nico's pulse quickened.

It was Rachel, and she was as brave and insane as ever.

"Run!"

He knew she would never listen, but he also knew he had to try.

Sure enough, she didn't move...and neither did the snake.

It stopped in mid slither, its disgusting face mere feet away from hers. For a second, he was certain that it was preparing to kill her, and he began to run towards her before his mind had time to process what was happening.

Before he reached a good striking distance, however, the sound of the creature's unexpected voice made him freeze in mid-step.

"_Spare the oracle_," it hissed, its serpentine voice dull and monotone- as if had been programmed to recite these words. "_Kill the son of Hades_."

Well, that certainly cleared things up.

He could see Rachel's mouth fall open in shock, but he didn't have time to react. The serpent turned its face towards its target- towards him- and its yellow eyes locked on his. Seconds later, it lunged- its fangs seemingly aiming at his throat. He used his sword to knock it away, but before he knew it had lunged again.

And this time, he was not quite so lucky.

He could feel something sharp and painful sink into his left arm and he shouted in pain as one of the fangs tore out a chunk of his flesh. He could feel a strange substance entering his body, and he was willing to bet that a regular person would have been killed on contact. Thankfully, his godly genes gave him a bit more time- he could feel the venom spreading, but he managed to hold onto consciousness.

Although the room began to grow hazy, he could see the creature preparing for another attack. Knowing that he probably wouldn't survive a second round, Nico did something he should have thought of several minutes earlier. Falling to his knees, he placed a shaky hand on the cold floor and willed the ground to open- it took a few seconds, but the floor soon gave a satisfying crack as a wave of blue hellfire shot across it.

He heard the serpent give a final hiss, and watched as it was swallowed by the hungry earth below.

That was the last thing he remembered seeing before the world went black.

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A/N- A bit of a short one, but hopefully okay. Let me know what you thought!


	6. A Rude Awakening

"Nico, are you awake?"

He groaned as a soft voice broke through the darkness.

"No, Mamma- sono stanco," was his instinctual reply as he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.

For a moment, he had no idea where he was- all he knew, was that his head- and his arm- were pounding. He also knew that he wanted to sleep- and that required making the owner of the voice go away.

"Vada via," he grumbled. For a few seconds, there was blissful silence- but it soon became apparent that it was not destined to last.

"I'm not your mother, Nico," the voice cut in, the annoyance clear. "And speak English, I have no idea what you're saying."

Clearly, whoever was in the room as not going to give him much sympathy and needed to be dealt with.

Groggily, the young man turned his head and began to open his eyes. At first the dim light stung, but after a few rapid blinks he began to adjust. He was still confused and disoriented, but quickly realized that he was in his apartment's bedroom and gave a small sigh of relief.

He was alive, and he was home.

This relief was short-lived, however. As his eyes continued to adjust and he summoned the strength to prop himself up, he finally managed to focus his gaze on the other figure in the room.

It was none other than Rachel Elizabeth Dare...and she looked _pissed_.

She was seated on a chair about a foot away from his bed, with her arms crossed across her chest and dark circles around her eyes- she looked like hell (and Nico, more than anyone, had the authority to decide that) and the glint in her eyes was enough to scare off even the fiercest monsters.

Nico knew he was in for it, and he had just enough time to brace himself for the onslaught.

"How _dare_ you do this to me?" the redhead demanded, standing up for her chair and stepping towards the edge of his bed. "That's always the way it is with you stupid, idiotic, demigods, isn't it? Rushing into danger with your swords waving, and nearly getting yourselves killed because you think you're brave and invincible and perfect." She drew a deep breath, and he could tell that her body as shaking slightly as she spoke.

Nico had had quite a few fights with the Oracle over the years, but he had never seen her quite this worked up.

"You could have _died_, Nico!" She exclaimed, her cheeks red and her eyes flashing with pent-up anger. "You knew that thing was after you, and you went straight towards it- because you're just as stupid and arrogant as the rest of them! Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? Or were you too busy thinking about being a brave little hero? If you had died...I...I..."

Rachel trailed off and turned her back towards him. Apparently, she didn't want him to see her face. For a moment, all Nico could do was watch the scene unfold- his head was still pounding, and had hardly had enough time to regain consciousness before Rachel had begun her rant. This was certainly the oddest wake-up he had ever experienced, and he wasn't quite sure how to react. He did, however, feel that her surprisingly emotional reaction was a bit unfair. After all, it wasn't like he had asked the serpent to attack, and he definitely didn't enjoy feeling like crap.

Finally, after what felt like ages, he managed to string together a reply.

"I wasn't trying to prove anything," he began, noticing that his voice felt scratchy in his throat. "And, despite what you may think, I don't have a death wish."

She scoffed, but he ignored it and continued.

"I didn't mean to scare you- or anyone- but I saw it heading in your direction, and my instinct was to attack. And besides," he finished, "_you _were the one who ran into the room swinging a dagger at it, if I recall correctly. I guess some of our demigod stupidity has rubbed off on you."

Rachel whipped around, and he could see that her eyes had grown red and puffy. He didn't have much time to absorb that fact, however, before she began her retort.

"That was different!" She exclaimed, her fists balled at her sides. "I...you...you nearly died- and you've been passed out for almost twenty four hours! We had no idea if you were going to pull through, but we couldn't even take you to a hospital because you're a demigod that was bitten by a giant mythological snake. All we could do was drag you back here and hope for the best. I felt so...helpless!" She drew a deep breath, and he could see that her expression was (finally) beginning to soften. "Gods, Nico- can't things ever be easy with you?"

Despite his better judgement, he grinned as he began to prop himself into a sitting position. "Nope, probably not," he started, "but it makes me all the more lovable, doesn't it?

For a second, he wondered if his last statement was too bold, but he could have sworn that he saw the beginnings of a smirk on her lips. Unfortunately, she quickly fought it back.

"I should go call Percy and Annabeth." Rachel stated, suddenly seeming eager to leave the room. Before she could take a step, however, Nico (who, arguably, was still not quite in his right mind) reached out and grabbed her hand.

She instantly froze, and turned back towards him with surprise in her wide eyes. "Wha-" She began, but he cut her off before she could continue.

"Look, Rach," he started, trying to ignore the burning feeling in his hand, "I'm sorry I scared you- really, I am. And thanks...for everything."

Their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds before she diverted her gave down to the floor and nodded weakly.

A moment later, he released her hand and allowed her to step away. "Really need to call," she muttered, as she stepped into the hallway and shut the bedroom door behind her.

He stared at the closed door, wondering what had possessed him to act so brazenly. Maybe it had been his close brush with death, or the genuine guilt that began to gnaw at him as he realized how much stress he had caused for his friends- whatever it was, he knew that now, more than ever, he wanted to keep Rachel close. He hated that he had (unintentionally) upset her so much, but was touched by the fact that she had been sitting at his bedside for nearly a day.

Unpleasant as the last few minutes had been, they had also filled him with an odd sort of warmth.

She had stayed with him.

Worried about him.

Done all she could to make him better.

She had gone above and beyond the call of friendship, and it almost felt as if there was something more between them. Gods, there was nothing he wanted more than having her at his side forever- but he knew it wasn't possible.

He would always have to let her go.

With a sigh, Nico leaned back against his pillows, wincing as he noticed the sharp pain that shot through his arm as he moved. For the first time since waking up, he noticed that his arm had been bandaged with white gauze and he suddenly remembered that the serpent had ripped out a large chunk of flesh during its attack.

Nico couldn't remember how bad it had been, but judging by the size of the bandage and the amount of pain, he had lost a pretty sizable bit of his forearm.

He had to find out.

Stomach churning, he began to unwrap the gauze, noting that there didn't seem to be much blood on the white cloth. That, at least, was a good sign...maybe it hadn't been as bad as he thought.

As the last layers of fabric were pulled away, however, he found himself thinking that blood would have been a better option. Instead of finding a deep red gash, Nico was mortified to discover that a third of his forearm, where the snake had bitten, was now composed of rotting grey flesh...like something one would expect to find on two week old corpse.

The ten-inch gash as completely filled, but the new skin looked far from healthy- or alive.

It was revolting, even to him, and he could not ignore the nausea that was building in his stomach.

Sure, he had been injured before- both never on such a large scale. He had noticed that his past scrapes and scratched tended to develop odd greyish scabs before they healed but, having never lost such a sizable chunk of flesh before, this was entirely new. And entirely unwelcomed.

For the umpteenth time in his life, Nico do Angelo felt like a complete freak of nature.

He briefly wondered if Rachel had seen the wound (probably not, or else she would have been sent running) before frantically attempting to re-wrap the gauze. Gods, he hoped the skin returned to normal as it healed...

Before he could completely cover the wound, however, the sound of another voice distracted him from his task.

"You're healing nicely," it proclaimed, making Nico jump and divert his gaze to the other side of the room.

The voice was male this time- deep and powerful.

And he knew exactly who it belonged to.

"Father."

Seconds later, the Lord of the Dead emerged from a shadowy corner and took a few strides towards his son. After glancing down at the young man's arm, he looked his son in the eye and nodded.

This was only the second time he had visited his son's apartment (the first visit had been an attempt to convince Nico that a small Manhattan rental was not good enough for the Prince of the Underworld- needless to say, it had not made for a pleasant afternoon), and Nico was surprised to see him there. It was odd, really, seeing a god standing in his small bedroom- even if that god happened to be his father.

"Yes, healing very nicely indeed." Hades mused approvingly, still looking down at the injury. "And quickly. Your power must still be growing."

Although Nico was still disgusted with his current predicament, the insecure little boy inside of him beamed with pride.

_His father was proud of him. _

_His father thought he was powerful... _

Shaking his head, the adult Nico regained control and frowned. "Yeah, it's fantastic." He muttered sarcastically, trying not to look down at the greyish wound. Clearly, Hades thought that growing a few inches of dead flesh was a positive sign.

It hardly seemed fair- Percy could heal by simply going in the water (not that he needed to, now that he was invincible)...and yet he was stuck with some sort of revolting reverse corpse-like healing process. He would have traded places in an instant.

If his father heard the annoyance in his voice, he didn't acknowledge it. His expression remained neutral and his eyes started intently at his son.

"I am glad you will recover," he stated with the faintest amount of affection in his voice. Nico could tell that he was genuinely glad, but he also knew that most parents would have been much more emotional- and relieved- after one of their children survived a brush with death. But, Nico supposed, he would have to be happy with what little affection he got. It was better than nothing.

"I have dispatched the furies to determine who instigated the attack," Hades continued, "we will find out why it was after you."

The young man nodded as he continued to wrap the gauze back around his arm. "Thanks," he began, "but how did you know?"

The god gave his son a incredulous look but (thankfully) kept his criticism to himself. "You sent the creature down to the underworld," he began with a hint of annoyance. "I came across it this morning and it hissed something about killing the son of Hades." His expression darkened. "Needless to say, I disposed of it and came to see what sort of state you were in."

Pausing, Hades glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on the chair and the packages of gauze and ambrosia Rachel had left on the bedside table.

"I see you have been well taken care of."

Nico shifted uncomfortably. "Rachel is a good friend," he muttered.

Much to his annoyance, Hades raised a dark eyebrow and shot him a sceptical look. "I would say she is more than a friend, if my observations are correct."

"Dad!"

His mouth dropped in disbelief- did his cold and distant father really just make a suggestive comment about his love life? Nico was about to protest but, as if on cue, Rachel burst back into the room before he could begin.

"They're thrilled that you're okay, and Annabeth is going to rearch the sna-"

The girl stopped in midsentence as she caught sight of the new arrival, and her tired eyes widened once more. She had never seen Nico's father before, but her ability to see though the mist meant (he assumed) that she could instantly recognize him for what he was.

Her mouth formed a small "o" shape and she looked back and forth between the two men.

"Dad, Rachel. Rachel, Dad." Nico said with a small sigh. He had a feeling that this was going to get more and more uncomfortable, and he suddenly found himself wishing that he could pass out again.

"Er...hi?" Rachel said, doing some sort of awkward bow in his father's direction. Nico stifled the urge to laugh- it was very rare to see Rachel Elizabeth Dare shocked and speechless.

Hades said nothing in return, and his eyes remained locked on his son as if they were still alone in the room. "The _Oracle, _Nico?" He said pointedly. "You _do_ realize how many problems this will cause, correct? Why complicate matters when there are so many other women that you could easily claim as a wife?"

The young man felt his cheeks begin to burn, and he wished that he could sink into the floorboards. Apparently, Olympian parents could be just as embarrassing as mortal ones- if not worse. The unfortunate difference, however, was the Olympian ones could incinerate you if you protested.

Despite that, Nico decided to give it a try.

"Dad, _please_ stop talking," He hissed, not really caring if he sounded like a whiney twelve year old. He had nearly died, his head was still pounding, and his father had just embarrassed him in front of the girl he had been crazy about for years. He figured a little whining was justified. "We are _not_ going to discuss this."

Thankfully, his father listened- though not without sending him one last dubious look.

"Very well. Enough pleasantries. I have come to take you home- you will heal faster back in our realm and I have had your room prepared."

Although this was a step up from talking about wives, it was not a vast improvement. Rachel still looked stunned, and her eyes widened even more at the mention of 'our realm.' It felt as if Hades had arrived and written the word "freak" on his forehead with a large black marker.

"This is home." Nico replied quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. Annoyed as he was, he still didn't want to push his father too far- the god could be terrifying if he wanted to be. "I'm fine here."

"Ridiculous." His father replied, waving one of his hands dismissively. "His hovel is not suitable for any son of mine, least of all when he needs to regain his strength. I may be willing to let you carry on with your ridiculous charade most of the time, Nico, but not when your life is at stake."

He rolled his eyes- it already felt like a losing battle, but he wasn't quite ready to give up. "I'm not dying, Dad," he protested, "and Rachel will be here. I'll be fine."

Unfortunately, the god was unconvinced.

"My word is final." He proclaimed, reminding Nico of the way he had been spoken to as a child. "I thank you for your services, Oracle," he continued, with a nod towards the still-speechless Rachel, "but Nico needs to come back to where he belongs."

"I don't ha-"

"Enough." Hades cut him off, and he knew he had lost. He might have been one of the most powerful demigods in existence, but he was no match for his father. If he didn't give in willingly, he'd be forced into it...or worse.

The battle was over.

An odd combination of feelings surged within him- shame, embarrassment, anger...relief. The thought of the underworld both enticed and repulsed him- he didn't want to go, and didn't want to admit that he needed it- but he also knew he could never shut off the part of himself that desired it. And his father was right- he would heal faster there- he would be rid of the rotting flesh and splitting headache sooner than he would be if he stayed behind. That, at least, cheered him up slightly.

"Rach, I'm sorry." He said softly, turning towards the redhead. She still looked taken aback by the unexpected godly visit, but she managed to nod.

"I understand. Go home for a bit- and then get better so I can kick your ass." She smiled weakly, but all Nico could do was turn away.

His stomach churned at the use of the word _home_.

She thought he belonged there too...

"Come along," his father's deep voice snapped him out of his daze and, before he could react, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. "We must be going."

Nico sighed dejectedly before allowing himself to be whisked down into the great and terrible darkness below.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N- Didn't come out quite as I pictured, but I hope you liked it! Let me know if you want more!


	7. Demigod Dreams

_He was at camp half-blood, running towards the dark forest as fast as his fourteen-year old legs could carry him. He knew he couldn't outrun them- they were bigger, and faster...and, for some unknown reason, angrier. _

_A hand grabbed his shoulder, and he tumbled down onto the grassy ground. Thankfully, it was still soft from that afternoon's rain. _

"_Where are you going, Corpse Boy?" One of his attackers asked with a sneer. John Saxon was an Ares camper, with an even bigger attitude problem than most- two years ago, he had decided that he had it out for Nico, and had made torturing the boy his hobby ever since. _

_Nico wasn't surprised to see his big, ugly face- but it didn't make the situation any more pleasant. Unfortunately, it also appeared that he had convinced (or coerced) four or five minions into joining him that evening- they gathered around the fallen boy, cheering John on and throwing in their own insults. _

"_Maggot breath."_

"_Zombie boy."_

"_Hurry up and finish off him before he decays."_

_He'd heard it all before but, somehow, it still hurt every time. No one wanted to be shunned by their peers or tortured by bullies- especially not insecure fourteen year old boys. _

_John's fist made contact with his stomach, knocking the air out of him and making him wheeze. Gods, it had hurt...and it took all of his strength not to fight back. He had made the mistake of sending a few skeletons after his opponents before, and that had only made matters worse. Sure, they had been chased off for a bit- but the verbal assaults had become twice as bad in the following days. After two years of this, Nico had learned that it was best to take what he got, and escape as soon as possible._

_Running and hiding. _

_Those had become his two biggest methods of survival. _

_Groaning, he turned his head- the nearest shadow was only three feet away, but he knew John probably wouldn't give him the chance to reach it. He reached out his arm but, sure enough, it was too far away. _

"_Trying to run home to daddy?" John sneered, kicking the younger boys arm aside. "Or were you planning to cower behind your fish-brained cousin again?"_

_The son of Ares hated Percy almost as much as he hated Nico but, fortunately for the older cousin, had decided that Percy was not a good punching bag (with him being invincible and all). John grudgingly left Percy alone- and left Nico alone too, when they were together...but now that he had been caught on his own, he was once again fair game. _

"_Maybe I should let you go." John said before delivering another firm punch in the stomach. "Maybe we can strike a deal. I let you crawl back to your daddy and you promise never to return. This camp is for real demigods, not disgusting creatures of the Underworld." _

_Although he knew it would only make things worse, he could not hold back his reply. _

"_Shut the hell up!" He shouted, his body suddenly shaking with rage. _

_He hated this. _

_He hated John._

_And most of all, he hated being told that he didn't belong. _

_Sure enough he earned himself another punch but, before the older camper had time to deliver a fourth, a new figure arrived on the scene. _

_A redheaded, and very angry, figure. _

"_What the hell is going on here?" She asked, pushing her way into the circle. Some of the younger minions quickly darted away, but about three, including John, remained. _

_As he caught sight of Rachel, Nico painfully pulled himself up into a sitting position- as much as it hurt, he didn't want her to see him like this._

_The eighteen year old Oracle took a step towards John, a deadly glare on her face. "I repeat," she began, "what the hell is going on?" _

"_Just a bit of friendly battle practice." John replied with a forced smile. _

_Thankfully, Rachel as too smart to buy that. She ignored the Ares camper and turned her attention to Nico. "You okay?"_

_He nodded, trying his best to mask his pain._

"_Good. Now, knock them out," she said, as if her word was final. Living in the big house had given her some sort of unofficial authority, and other campers instantly looked worried. _

_Nico liked to see them squirm. _

"_Use your powers and knock them out." She repeated._

"_But I shouldn't..."_

_He trailed off, seeing the determined glint in her eyes. He knew he would pay for this later, but the temptation was now too much- and, oddly, exhibiting his powers in front of Rachel seemed like a good idea. With a wave of his hand, he willed the four remaining attackers to sleep, and they instantly crumpled down onto the ground. _

_She smiled in satisfaction before offering him a hand and helping him stand up. The pain was still there but, for a moment, all he could focus on was the feeling of her hand in his. _

"_Come on, let's go talk to Chiron..." _

_xxxx_

_He was fifteen now. And, for the first time since it had been built, he decided to let someone else see the inside of the Hades cabin. He wasn't technically supposed to- especially since that someone happened to be female and human- but she had asked, and he could never tell her no._

"_This is so cool!" Rachel exclaimed._

_He gave a sigh of relief- she had been silent for nearly a minute now, and he had had no idea what she was thinking. He was unbelievably happy that she was not revolted...and better yet, that she actually thought it was cool. _

_Nico had to agree- he loved the black marble floors, and black and silver wall coverings...heck, he even loved the skeleton fireplace that burned with cold blue hellfire. Some (most) might have found the place creepy, but it suited him perfectly._

"_The ceiling is amazing." She proclaimed, her eyes studying the intricately carved stone. It had been decorated with images of the underworld- scenes of twisted trees and imposing creatures. "What does that say?" _

_Rachel pointed up at the Greek engraving in the centre of the room, and Nico tried to suppress a groan. He knew exactly what it said, but it wasn't the most uplifting motto and he wasn't too keen to share. _

_Despite himself, he obliged. "Death conquers all," he translated, "it's a favourite saying of my father's and he insisted on putting it there." _

_Much to his surprise, she laughed. "Awesome," she began, grinning in his direction, "I want to meet your dad sometime- he sounds like a cheerful guy." _

_Nico chuckled, trying to picture a confrontation between the fiery Oracle and his dour father. He had a feeling it would not end well. _

"_I'm just glad you like it," he said earnestly, chancing a shy glimpse in her direction. "I thought maybe...well, I assumed most people would find this place depressing."_

"_Well, I'm not most people," she replied with a wink, plopping herself in one of the ornate black marble chairs. "This place is wicked- and way cooler than the other cabins I've seen." _

_Nico beamed._

xxxxxx

"Are you awake?"

The young man opened his eyes, half expecting to find himself back in the Hades cabin with Rachel. A quick survey of his surroundings, however, told him that this was not the case- the room was just as dark, but it wasn't his cabin. He was in his room in his father's palace, and the voice did not belong to the Oracle.

He quickly realized that he had been dreaming- but, apparently, his mind had been in flashback mode...which, he supposed, was better than being in its regular doom and gloom prophetic mode. Normal demigod dreams were rarely a good sign.

"Demeter?" He asked groggily as the room came into focus.

The goddess (who was, technically, his Step-Grandmother) was standing near the dresser, holding a silver goblet in her hand.

"Ah, excellent, you're awake," she stated before gliding towards his bed. Unlike her daughter, Demeter was almost always kind to him, and didn't seem to resent his presence. She, like all gods and goddesses, had her flaws and (rule number one, never say no when she offers you cereal) but, in general, she had taken pity on the motherless boy and had become the closest thing he had to a surrogate. Nico was also pretty sure that it was she who had convinced Persephone to leave him alone during the past few years- he hadn't been turned into a flower since he was eighteen, and his father's wife was usually curt but tolerant now.

That had been a much welcomed improvement.

"Here," Demeter continued, "your father wants you to drink this." She said, passing him the silver goblet as soon as he managed to sit up. "It's nectar."

"Thanks," he replied before raising it to his lips and taking a large swig of the sweet substance. His body instantly reacted, and he felt a comforting warmth spread through him.

He felt stronger than he had in days.

As much as he hated to admit it, it had probably been a good idea to listen to his father. When he had first woken up back in his apartment, he had thought that he was feeling better- soon after his arrival in the Underworld, however, his fever had spiked (to nearly 98 degrees- the warmest he had been in years) and he had succumbed to his drowsiness. If he had stayed in the regular world, it probably would have been worse and he suspected that he would still be passed out. He had been down there for nearly forty-eight hours now and, although he still wasn't himself, he could tell that he had begun healing much faster. Best of all, the skin on his arm was nearly back to normal, and the pounding headache had faded.

He was still a bit tired, and had been taking uncharacteristic afternoon naps (like the one he had just woken from)- but, all in all, he felt almost normal.

Hopefully, he would be able to return home soon...and apologize to Rachel for his sudden departure.

"Feeling better?" Demeter asked, giving him a soft smile.

Nico took another sip of the divine drink, this time draining the goblet, before nodding. "Much. Thanks." He replied.

"Excellent. That was a rather large dose of nectar for a demigod," she noted, taking the goblet and placing it on his bedside table, "I nearly questioned your father's wisdom- but, clearly, you have more divine blood than most. He must be right, you are growing stronger."

Nico shrugged, trying not to linger on her statement. In recent years, it had been harder and harder to ignore his abnormalities, and he didn't like to be reminded that that part of himself was probably growing. He felt less and less human every day, and he wondered how much longer he could hang on...

He forced his mind to focus on his mother- the dark hair and eyes that he could hardly recall.

He would never let go of her.

And he would never let go of Rachel...

"Your father would like to see you in the throne room as soon as you are ready," Demeter continued, ignoring his lack of response. She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Try not to look so gloomy, Nico. You are recovering well- and, best of all, it will soon be harvest time! No one can be sad during the harvest- I will not allow it."

Nico chuckled at her youthful enthusiasm and managed a reassuring nod. "Can't wait," he replied with a small smile.

Demeter gave him another pat on the shoulder- "That's a good boy," she stated before walking towards the door. "I suggest you don't keep your father waiting too long- he looks a bit agitated this afternoon."

The young man sighed and thanked the goddess again as she made her way into the hallway. Feeling slightly worried by her last statement, he pushed off the dark grey covers and grabbed pants and a clean shirt, and threw them on as quickly as he could.

He felt better- extraordinarily better, considering- but he wondered how much longer it would last.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N- Not a ton of plot here, but I hope you enjoyed the flashbacks. Let me know your thoughts!


	8. Overcome

Demeter had been right when she had said that Hades was agitated.

Nico arrived in his father's throne room to find the god pacing back and forth across the large chamber. Although his face maintained its trademark sombre scowl, it was very rare (and a bit unsettling) to see him this unsettled. Usually, Nico would arrive to find him motionless on his marble throne- both his expression and his body language completely indecipherable.

This was definitely something new, and the young man wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Reluctantly, he spoke- instantly grabbing his father's attention.

"Demeter said you wanted to see me," he said cautiously, taking a few steps towards the god.

Hades stopped his pacing and quickly turned to face his son.

"Ah, you have recovered."

It was a statement rather than a question, and Nico figured his father could probably sense these things. He was pleased to see a flash of relief cross the god's face, but he did not have much time to dwell on it.

"Good," Hades continued with a curt nod, "I have a job for you."

Nico raised a perplexed eyebrow. A job? It wasn't unheard of- and he did frequently help his father out when he could- but he wasn't used to the sense of urgency in the god's voice. Clearly, this job was more than just taking Cerberus for a walk or listening to the furies complain about their working conditions (no matter how many concessions Hades made, they always found something to harp on about).

"Okay," Nico replied apprehensively, wondering what his father had in mind. Whatever it was, he had a feeling that it wasn't going to be good.

Hades walked a few more paces, as if he was reluctant to continue the discussion, but- after a few moments- he began to explain.

"There is a recently deceased soul that will not come down to the Underworld," he began, plastering a neutral expression on his face.

Nico nearly gave a sigh of relief- that was nothing unusual. Quite a few people were reluctant to let go of the upper world, and some spirits stubbornly clung to places that they had once lived. If they stayed long enough, and made their presence known, living humans often deemed their dwellings haunted.

He knew Hades was generally annoyed by this (being the god of the dead, he never quite understood why human souls were so stubborn at times), and would sometimes force the souls into the underworld against their wills. More often than not, however, he just let them be- claiming that he was too busy to care about stupid humans who didn't want to move onto the next phase of their existence. Nico had heard him rant about this on several occasions, and had even been sent to banish a few particularly nasty spirits down into the Fields of Punishment. As a son of Hades, he had inherited the ability to cast souls down to the Underworld- though he had to admit that it as one of his least favourite abilities.

"I think..." the god hesitated, which was something Nico had rarely seen. "I think you should be the one to speak with him. Convince him that his time has come."

Nico furrowed his brow. Convince him? In the past, he had only been sent to deal with souls that needed to be punished, and Hades had told him to show no sympathy. Talking a soul into willingly moving on to the Underworld was certainly a new concept, and he was surprised to hear his father suggest it.

"Okay," Nico replied again, confusion etched on his face. "I can try. But-" he paused, his deep brown eyes studying his father, "why me?"

Something about this just didn't sit right- he could not help but wonder why the god had decided that this was so urgent, or why he was insisting that he (who, after all, was still recovering from an attack) had to be the one to do it.

Much to his surprise, Hades diverted his gaze down to the floor- as if he suddenly found it hard to face his son.

"You will see why," he replied coolly, raising his hand as he prepared to send Nico to where he was needed.

Before the young man could respond, he felt the darkness surround him. He was overcome by the familiar (and oddly comforting) feeling of shadow travelling and, seconds later, found himself back on the surface.

It took a moment to regain his bearings. He quickly realized where he was, however, and his first thought was that there had been some sort of mistake.

Much to his surprise, he was in the darkened hallway of the Italian Cultural Centre- which was even odder, considering that it was (if his internal calendar was correct) Sunday. The Centre wasn't open on Sundays, and no one would be here.

No one living, at least...

A chill went up his spine as he looked around the room. As far as he could tell, he was alone- but something in the back of his mind told him that all was not what it appeared.

He hoped that he was here by mistake- maybe he had been thinking about work when his father whisked him away, and had unconsciously changed his route. Gods he hoped so, but he had a feeling that was not the case.

Hades didn't make mistakes, and he doubted that his power could trump his father's.

He was here for a reason, and he could not ignore the sense of dread building inside of him.

After drawing a few deep breaths, he decided to call out.

"Hello?"

His voice echoed down the hallway and, after hearing nothing in return for several long moments, he began to hope that he truly was alone. Seconds later, however, his hopes were dashed.

A weak voice returned his call- a voice that, for once, Nico did not want to hear.

"Nico, is that you? Ringrazi il dio!"

_Oh gods no... _

Nico's heart began to beat rapidly in his chest. He would recognize that voice anywhere and his stomach instantly felt like it had been filled with a ton of bricks.

_Al... _

The young man was overcome with the sudden urge to run. Running and hiding- that had once been his mantra, and the scared little boy inside of him wanted him to follow that instinct. The more logical part of him, however, knew that he couldn't do it. He had been sent here for a reason...and if Al was...if Al needed him, he knew he couldn't leave.

The man as the closest thing he had to a father.

And besides, he hadn't confirmed anything yet. Maybe Al was okay- maybe he had just fallen asleep in his chair and had been locked in by the caretaker.

Yes, that had to be it.

He refused to believe otherwise.

Before he knew it, his legs were propelling him towards the voice. He tried his best to ignore his mounting dread but, as soon as he entered the main room, his worst fears were confirmed.

For a second, the scene looked almost normal. Al as sitting in his favourite chair, as he often was, and he smiled as Nico dashed into the room. But, being who he was, the young man could tell that things were not the same- and never would be again.

Al was eerily pale, almost transparent, and Nico knew instantly that he was the soul his father had sent him to speak to.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and he quickly grabbed the door frame to keep himself steady.

_No no no no no..._

_Please no._

His mind was racing and his heart was pounding, but he knew he had little choice but to accept the scene before him. Nico, more than anyone, knew that you could not fight death and his enhanced senses made the truth all too clear.

His friend and his mentor was dead.

...and his father wanted him to convince him to willingly go to the Underworld.

He wondered how the hell he was expected to do that, when the last thing he wanted was to see Al go. Nico felt a sudden surge of anger towards the god of the dead- he must have known how hard this would be for him, and yet he had sent him here anyway- as some sort of cruel and unusual punishment for an unknown crime.

It was sick and twisted, even for him...

"Nico, what's happening?" Al's spirit asked, looking up at him with worry in his kind eyes. "Are you okay?"

Nico's stomach did another flop.

Only Al would be worried about someone else at a time like this. He wasn't making things any easier.

_Please no._

"Don't worry about me, Nunno." The young man replied, trying to ignore the lump building in his throat. "I...you're..."

Nico trailed off, unable to say what needed to be said.

He couldn't do it...he couldn't accept it.

"I'm so glad you're here," Al continued, sounding much too happy for someone in his predicament. "It was the strangest thing- I arrived here yesterday, but no one said a word to me. It was as if I didn't exist. And everyone seemed upset about something but, no matter how many people I asked, I could not figure out what it was."

His smile faded as he seemingly recalled the memory, and it took all of Nico's strength not to let his tears overcome him.

He couldn't imagine how terrible it must have been to be so alone and confused. Al didn't deserve this...he needed to know.

"They weren't ignoring you," Nico began, drawing a deep, shaky breath. He had no idea how to say this, but he knew he had no choice. "They couldn't see you."

Al shot him a confused look. "Couldn't see me?" He asked, his brow furrowed. "How is that possible?"

Oh gods, this was it.

Nico knew he had no choice but to simply say it.

He hoped he had enough strength to get it out.

"It's possible because you've...because you're...dead." He winced, hating how horribly cold and terrible that sounded. But, he supposed, there was no easy way to say it.

This felt like some sort of nightmare- but he knew that he wasn't dreaming. It was painfully real.

He just wished that it didn't hurt so much...

"Non è possibile," the old man replied, shaking his head. "I did feel...odd yesterday and I wasn't sure how I got here...but if you can see me, then I can't be."

This was a hint of fear and desperation in his voice, and Nico had to fight hard to maintain his composure. He hated seeing Al in distress, and he wished there was something he could do to make things better.

Nico knew, however, that it was only going to get worse.

"I can see you because I'm different," he said softly, taking his hand off of the wall and chancing a shaky step towards the chair. "I'm...not exactly human."

He could see Al fingering the tiny gold cross he always wore around his neck, and his heart sank once more.

"Di Angelo." The man muttered, his eyes flashing with a surge of realization and hope. "_From the Angel. _You're not...are you?"

Nico had always found the literal translation of his surname name ironic, and was not shocked that Al had arrived at that conclusion.

Unfortunately, the truth was much less comforting.

"No, I'm not an angel," he replied, feeling terrible that he had to be the one to shatter the old man's hopes. "I'm a demigod."

Al looked more confused than ever, and Nico knew he had much more explaining to do.

He owed the man the truth, and he had to do what he could to help him find peace. Doing his best to push his own emotions aside, he continued.

"I'm the son of Hades, god of the Underworld," he began, noticing that his father's name sent a surge of anger through him.

The old man's eyes grew wide. "Hades? The Greek god?" He gripped the cross tighter, as if clinging to his last and final piece of hope. Nico knew that this couldn't be easy for him, and he didn't know how to tell him the truth without shattering so much of what he held dear.

"Unfortunately, yes." The young man replied, unable to ignore the look of alarm on his mentor's face. "My father sent me here to talk to you," he hesitated, "...and to help you move on."

"Move on? To what?" Al asked, suddenly seeming younger than Nico had ever seen him. He could sense his fear, and he knew there was little he could do to make it go away. "This can't be true...you can't be..."

"You have no idea how much I wish things were different." Nico whispered earnestly, his eyes beginning to prickle with unshed tears. "But it's true." He paused and drew another deep breath. "You can choose to linger here, Nunno- I would never force you to leave. But that is not what is meant to be."

Nico could hardly believe he was managing to choke out the required words. Part of his brain was screaming at him to stop- to tell Al to stay. Maybe the others couldn't see him, but he could, and Al would always be there for him.

Just as he always had been.

It was tempting, and Nico could not deny that he wanted it...

But he also knew that it wouldn't be fair to Al. He had learned early on in life that there was a time and place for everyone, and he knew that Al's time was now up. He needed to move on, and it was Nico's grisly job to ensure that he did.

"All souls are meant to go to the Underworld," he continued, noticing that Al's fear was giving way to an uncharacteristic stoicism. He was staring straight ahead now, with a distant look in eyes.

Nico wasn't sure if he could even hear him anymore.

"It's not quite what you may think. It isn't hell- not always. Those who have lived well find peace." Nico paused and drew another shaky breath. He felt sick, and overwhelmed, but he did his best to carry on.

He had to.

"And you're...you're one of the best people I've ever known," he choked, looking down at the man he had come to care for so deeply. "You have no reason to fear what comes next."

Silence fell, and it felt like an eternity before Al finally replied.

Turning his head towards Nico, the old man gave a small nod.

"I have lived a long life, il mio ragazzo," he began softly. There was still fear in his voice, but that was now coupled with a hint of determination. Nico knew he believed him, and was beginning to accept his fate.

After another long pause, Al continued.

"My wife- my Isabella- is she already there?"

"Yes," Nico replied. Al's wife had died nearly a decade ago and, soon after he had met the old man, Nico had gone to check on her- he knew that she was fine, and knew that she was waiting for him. "She is."

Al nodded again before slowly rising from his favourite chair. For the first time since Nico had met him, he did not wince in pain as he did so.

Much to Nico's surprise, Al then reached out and placed an icy cold hand on the younger man's shoulder and gave him a comforting smile.

"You're a good man, Nico." He said firmly, his hazel eyes meeting Nico's brown ones. "I always knew you were something special."

Nico nodded weakly, his heart both breaking and soaring as the man gave him his final words of affection. Al should have been disgusted- he should have backed away once he discovered who and what Nico really was...but he didn't, and the young man could see the deep affection in his eyes.

Terrible as this day was, he knew he would always cherish that.

"Do me a favour, will you?"

Nico nodded, noticing that a few tears had finally escaped. "Anything."

"Don't let any moment- or any one- slip away," the old man began, giving Nico a pointed look.

The demigod gave him a small smile.

"Oh, and the next time Venice plays a match, cheer loud enough for both of us."

"Of course."

After giving him a light pat on the cheek, Al finally pulled back. There was sadness, fear, and determination etched on his face, and Nico could tell that he was mustering his last ounce of bravery.

A moment later, Al's form began to fade.

He was ready.

And he was on his way.

"Ti amo, Nunno." Nico whispered as he watched the man he had loved as a father leave the earthly realm.

"Voi anache, Nico."

And with one final wink, Al was gone.

For a moment, Nico was too stunned to move. It all felt so surreal he could hardly believe that that was it.

It seemed so...quiet.

Al was gone...

But, somehow, the world was still turning, and the sun was still in the sky.

It looked as if nothing had changed, and yet Nico felt as if life would never quite be the same.

He should have been used to this.

Used to death.

But it felt different than it ever had before. Al wasn't some random soul he had whisked away to the underworld- he had meant so much to him, and he had just...faded.

There should have been something more.

_He _should have done something more.

Unable to stand the oppressive silnce any longer, Nico stumbled into the nearest shadow and left the room behind, not sure if he would ever be able to return.

He hated this- he hated his father for doing this to him- and he knew that he couldn't stand to be alone right now.

He wasn't really sure where he was going but, when he rematerialized, he found himself standing in the middle of a large penthouse.

Rachel's penthouse.

Apparently, this was where his subconscious thought he needed to be.

A moment later, the young woman emerged from the kitchen- clearly surprised to see him standing in her apartment with reddened eyes and a distraught expression on his face.

She quickly walked towards him.

"Nico, what-"

Before she could finish her sentence, however, the demigod did something her had been wanting to do for almost as long as he could remember. The second she was within his reach, he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers in a deep and feverish kiss.

And for a moment, nothing else mattered.

xxxxxxxxxx

A/N Dad a DUM! Well, that was hard to write. Let me know what you think- not sure if I love how it came out, but such is life.


	9. Internal Conflict

It was difficult to describe the expression on Rachel's face when they broke apart.

Shock, anger, desire, concern, fear, happiness...they all seemed to be struggling for control and, for a moment, Nico wasn't sure what was going to happen next.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait too long to find out.

"Are you insane? What the hell was that?" The redhead asked breathlessly, still trying to recover from his unexpected arrival and even more unexpected actions.

Before he could respond to her (seemingly) angry statement, however, he felt her lips press against his once more- and this time, he was not the instigator. Their kiss lasted longer this time and he revelled in the feeling of her hand on his rough cheek and the softness of her hair between his fingers. He could feel her body against his and he could not help but marvel at the thrilling comfort this provided- it felt so _right_, and he found himself wishing that she would never let go.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and their mutual need for air meant that they had to break apart once more.

"Gods, you have no idea how long I have been waiting to do that." Nico muttered as he gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a shaking hand. He could see a deep flush spread across her cheeks, and he tried to ignore the almost overwhelming mix of emotions that were coursing through him. The grief and anger he had experienced when talking to Al's spirit had not faded, but that was now mixed with the passion he felt towards the insane and fantastic girl standing in front of him.

He wanted to kiss her again.

He wanted to scream.

He wanted to break down into tears.

He wanted to run away.

But he had no idea what to do. It was suddenly hard to speak, and hard to move- and it took most of his strength to stay standing. Luckily, Rachel saved him the trouble of deciding. As she took in his appearance, and the distraught look in his eyes, he could tell that she was becoming concerned- and who could blame her? It wasn't every day that your friend shadow travelled into your apartment and risked the wrath of Apollo by starting an impromptu make-out session. This was out of character for the son of Hades, and Rachel knew it.

"Okay, I think I need an explanation here." She proclaimed as she gently prompted him towards the couch. Seconds later they were both sitting down, and she was staring at him expectantly.

"You nearly died, you've been down in the Underworld for two days, and now you show up looking like hell...and apparently, you don't care about provoking Apollo and getting us both turned into smoking piles of ash. Something_ must_ have happened."

She was right, as always, and Nico knew he had to explain. It took a moment for him to choke out he necessary words.

"My d...Hades sent me to guide a soul down to the underworld," he began, trying to push the image of Al's fearful eyes from his mind. "And the spirit..."

Nico trailed off and looked down at the hardwood floor. Gods, it was hard to talk about what had happened, and he could not suppress the fresh surge of grief that swept through him. He felt Rachel place her hand on top of his and, with an encouraging nod from his companion, he forced himself to continue.

"It was Al," he said softly. "Al's dead. But his spirit stayed behind, and I... I had to make him move on. Now he's really gone, because of me..."

He could feel another lump building in his throat and the familiar burning feeling in his eyes. For a moment there was silence- he could see the look of realization on Rachel's face and he could tell that she wasn't quite sure what to say.

"Oh Nico," she replied, her hand still placed on top of his. "I'm so sorry." She paused, "but it's not your fault- you can't honestly believe that."

He resisted the urge to jerk his hand away. Nico knew she was trying to be understanding, but her last statement was not what he had wanted to hear. She had no idea what it was like- or how he felt. She wasn't the child of the most depressing and revolting of all the gods...and she had no right to tell him how he should react.

"I should have known sooner," he began, his dark eyes avoiding hers. "I can sense when people I care about die but this time, I didn't."

"You were sick. And in the Underworld."

He ignored her and continued, unable to mask the bitterness in his voice. "I should have known, and I should have gone to him and done something to bring him back. And even if I couldn't..." he paused. "It's not my place to tell the people I love to leave this world. He could have stayed. He should have stayed..."

"You know that's not true." Rachel cut in, grasping his hand tighter than before. "It is terrible that you had to go through this, but everyone has their time and if his was up, than he was supposed to move on. You helped him, and I'm sure it was a comfort for him to have you there to explain everything."

Unable to take it any longer, Nico finally pulled away from her and got up off of the couch. He took a few brusque strides towards the marble fireplace, his back turned towards her. He wasn't entirely sure why, but his anger was threatening to overcome him and he didn't want to be near her if it did.

"You didn't see him." He replied after another long pause, directing his gaze back down at the floor. "He was terrified. And I had to tell him that everything he believed was wrong...and that I was the freak sent by Hades to make sure he went to the Underworld." Nico drew in a deep breath as he remembered the surreal events of that afternoon. "He thought I was an angel, Rachel. An _angel_. " He continued, his voice shaking. "How fucking ironic."

His head began to spin, and a wave of nausea swelled inside of him.

Looking for anything to distract him from his recent memories, Nico reached out and brushed his fingers across the bright red flowers Rachel had placed in a vase on her mantle. For a moment, he mindlessly touched the soft petals but his simple action soon backfired. In less than a minute, the beautiful blooms began to wither beneath his touch- their vibrant colour faded into a sickly grey and their stems slumped lifelessly against the vase.

He had destroyed them.

Just like he seemed to destroy most things in his pathetic life.

Nico stared at the dead flowers for another moment before turning away, unable to stomach the sight of them. Much to his surprise, Rachel was now standing a few feet in front of him, looking more concerned than ever.

A logical person would have run- but Rachel Elizabeth Dare had never been very logical.

"Nico, please," she began softly as she reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, it sucks that your father put you in that situation, but maybe he thought you were the right person to help Al through it. You're a good person, and none of this was your fault."

The young man took a step back, watching as Rachel allowed her hand to fall back to her side.

He wished he could believe her- and wished he could revel in her touch- but, right now, he could not allow himself to do so. He didn't deserve her affection or pity.

"I'm a monster." Nico spat, his eyes flickering back towards the flowers. "I never wanted this. You have no idea how much time I've spent wishing I was human- today more than ever..." He trailed off, his eyes catching hers for the briefest of moments.

He wondered why she didn't look afraid.

"Even being the son of some weak minor god would have been better." Nico continued, unable to stop the rant now that it had begun to flow out of him. He had been holding everything in for so long and now, in the circumstances, it appeared that he could no longer maintain his guard. "At least then, I wouldn't have all of these stupid powers. I wouldn't have to feel people die, or force them into an unwanted fate. I could pretend to be normal, and I would finally belong somewhere." Nico drew a shaky breath, trying not to let the darker moments of his childhood come to the surface. He had never fit in, and he knew he never really would- it was something he had known, and resented, ever since he had found out who and what he was.

"I never asked for this, and I just wish I could make everything stop," the young man continued, "I've been feeling less and less human every day, and part of me wonders if I should just give up the charade and live out my days in some cave in the Underworld. Things are only going to get worse, and it is just a matter of time before I hurt someone..."

"Enough."

Rachel cut him off before grabbing his hand- this time, she refused to let go. There was a look of fierce determination on her face, and her green eyes were locked on his brown.

"I refuse to listen to this anymore," she stated firmly. "Yes, you're different, and yes this has been an unbelievably shitty day- but I will not stand here and listen to you degrade yourself."

There was a long pause, and Nico could only stare ahead in shock- he had no idea how to respond, and he could tell that she was being dangerously serious.

"We all have things about our lives we wish we could change. But trust me, being human is vastly overrated...and you're lucky that, in your case, what you regret was not the result of your own stupidity." Rachel stopped for a moment, and Nico considered asking her what she meant- he could hear the sadness in her tone, and he suspected that she was referring to her choice to become the Oracle. Despite the gravity of the situation, he could not help but wonder what role (if any) he had played in the development of that regret.

Before he could question her, however, she continued.

"I'm only going to say it one more time- you're a good person, Nico, and I know that you'd never hurt anyone. You're right, you're never going to be normal- but, to be honest, that is one of the things I love most about you."

Rachel's last words echoed through his head and he was pretty sure that he was not hiding his shock particularly well.

One of the things she _loved_ about him?

Could that mean...

A shiver ran down his spine but this time, it was not an unpleasant sensation. Despite the terrible events of the day, and the gnawing guilt and grief that had filled him, her words filled him with a kernel of hope. Nico supposed that a part of him had always known it- but the fact that she had declared that she accepted him...and maybe even loved him...made him want to keep hanging on.

He couldn't give up if Rachel was there to tether him to this world.

"I'm so sorry this happened, but we'll get through it- together." Her voice was softer now, and he gave the smallest of smiles as she placed her hand on his cheek once more.

She smiled back and, a second later, reached up to give the demigod a quick, but reassuring, kiss.

Another shiver ran through him, and he drew a deep breath as tried to push back the remnants of his anger.

Al's final words fluttered through his mind- _"Don't let anything, or anyone, pass you by,"_ the old man had said- and Nico suddenly knew exactly what he had been talking about.

Unfortunately, he also knew that even if they both wanted this, it was not going to be simple.

"Rach, we can't-"

He could see the desire in her eyes, and he didn't have the strength to stop her as she placed an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Gods, he wanted this so bad- and apparently, she did too. Despite his better judgement, he pulled her closer, enjoying the warmth and reassurance of her body against his.

"Apollo is going to kill us." She whispered.

"We'll find a way." He replied.

They had to.

Because if they didn't, he wasn't sure if he would be able to carry on.

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A/N- Well, thoughts? This was damn hard to write. Wanted to get the right balance without being too melodramatic and mushy...though I did want it to be pretty dramatic, and emotional and such. Let me know what you think! Sorry for the slowness, life had been busy!


	10. Behind Closed Doors

The next few weeks seem to pass quickly.

After that fateful night, Nico and Rachel had agreed to keep their progressing relationship a secret and, so far, it seemed that Apollo was none the wiser. In some ways, it felt as if things hadn't changed all that much- they still spent nearly every evening together, they still had movie nights and they still went out with Percy and Annabeth on the weekends. The fact that their feelings were now out in the open, however, did provide a welcomed sense of relief and it had been nice to make their couple-hood official.

And, of course, they had now added a few new...activities...to their schedules.

Although they had been doing their best to keep the physical aspects of their relationship to a minimum until they figured out a way around the whole Virginal Oracle thing, things had already gotten rather heated on a few occasions. They hadn't technically broken any rules yet, but Nico was pretty sure that they were getting pretty close to the limit- and they had both spent far too much time thinking up creative ways of getting around Apollo's ridiculous restrictions.

Despite the rather unusual annoyances, things with Rachel had been good- and he sometimes found himself wondering if it was all finally happening.

That was not to say, however, that life had been completely peachy.

Al's funeral had been rough, and he had been glad to have Rachel there to offer her support. She hadn't known the old man well, but she knew what he had meant to Nico and she had been with him when he had needed her most. He wasn't sure if he would have been able to get through that week without her.

The atmosphere at work had definitely become more subdued in recent weeks, and there was no doubt that Al's absence had had a huge impact on the staff and regulars at the Centre. And it was even harder for Nico than it was for most- not only had he been close to Al, but the memoires of their final conversation filled him with a fresh wave of grief every time he walked into the front lobby. No matter how many times he tried to go past Al's favourite chair with his head held high and his mind frantically searching for any possible distraction, it still hurt to be there- and he was beginning to wonder if the pain would ever really go away.

Thankfully, he had Rachel to help keep him sane- and by the gods, he had really needed her there the first few times he had come home from work.

Unfortunately, the situation with his father also continued to be problematic, and the resentment he felt towards the god seemed to get worse every time his thoughts drifted to Al's final moments. Nico knew that holding grudges was his fatal flaw- but this time, he felt like it was completely justified. His father knew how much the task he had assigned would hurt him, and yet he had sent him anyway- probably to test his emotional strength, or diminish what was left of his humanity, or something twisted like that.

As far as he was concerned, his father was sadistic and manipulative, and he had refused to visit the underworld since the completion of his last grisly task. He was even making an effort to keep his power usage to a minimum (so far, that had been pretty successful- with the exception of the monster attack last weekend), and he had quickly banished any messengers his father had sent to speak with him. If the god really wanted to see him, he could come himself- and Nico was ready to tell him exactly how he felt.

Annoyingly, ignoring his father and his kingdom was a task that was easier said than done- and he could not deny that his yearning for the underworld had been growing the longer he stayed away. As much as he tried to ignore it, he could feel his body aching for the darkness below, and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to hold out. He knew Percy felt the same way about the water, and his cousin had recently discovered that it was much easier to maintain his sanity if he frequently returned to his father's realm. It was, they had concluded, one of the consequences of being a son of one of the "Big Three." Nico couldn't remember the last time he had gone this long without a trip to the underworld, and he hated that it was now a constant struggle to resist its call.

But he refused to give in. Primarily because he knew that second that he did, his father would know- and would probably track him down to smugly point out that that was where he belonged.

He did not want to give the god that sort of satisfaction.

So for now, he kept holding on- and he was unbelievably grateful that he had Rachel there to help make the task much easier.

He was, in fact, on his way to see her now, and there was no denying that there was a spring in his step as he approached the gallery she worked at. She had the amazing ability to push everything else from his mind and, having had another difficult day at work himself, he was very eager to see her.

With a deep breath, he pushed open the gallery door. It had been nearly two months since the attack during the charity auction, and he was impressed that most of the considerable damage had now been fixed. He could see that a few workmen were still attempting to replace the pipes Percy had burst but, aside from that, everything else was nearly impeccable. Although he had been unconscious for the end of that ordeal, his friends had informed them that they had made it out before the cops had arrived, and the subsequent news reports blamed the damage on faulty plumbing (apparently, the giant snake and the three sword-wielding demigods had gone unnoticed by the mortals). None of them had been mentioned in the reports, and Rachel had been able to return to work without anyone suspecting her involvement.

Things had, however, been pretty hectic as the gallery had worked frantically to fix the damage, and the redhead had put in many late nights in recent weeks. Luckily, things were now winding down, and Nico was glad that she would be getting off work at a decent hour that Friday. They had dinner plans with Percy and Annabeth, and he was looking forward to a nice, normal, evening.

After waving at the security guard, he walked towards Rachel's small office and knocked lightly on the door. Seconds later, she jerked it open, and he was pleased to see a wide grin spread across her face.

"Sorry, I'm a few minutes early," Nico said, returning her smile.

She shrugged, struggling to suppress the grin and trying to look nonchalant as she placed the papers she had been holding on a nearby table.

"No problem- I guess you can come in and make yourself comfortable while I tidy up a bit."

He obliged, and watched in amusement as she made a point turning away from him, acting as if she cared little about his arrival. A few months ago, he would have believed that she actually didn't care- but now, he knew the game, and he was happy to play along.

After shuffling around a few more papers, she spoke again. "You might want to shut the door," she stated, trying to sound nonchalant. "The workmen are making a lot of noise- I find it distracting."

"Sure, if you insist."

Rachel turned around and, for a moment, their eyes met. He could see a spark of playfulness in her gaze, and he suddenly couldn't wait for the door to be shut.

"I do." She replied, the smallest of smiles tugging at her lips.

Trying not to seem too keen, he slowly shut the door, noticing that his heart rate was already beginning to increase- this wasn't the first time they had been alone in her office, and if last week was any indication...well, he was willing to bet that they would be late for dinner.

Again.

Seconds after the door clicked shut he felt her hand snake around his waist and he whirled around to see her standing right in front of him, grinning once again. The game was over, and it was time for the reward.

"Much better," she stated, before reaching up and capturing his lips with a greedy kiss. "I have been looking forward to that all day."

"Me too," he replied, brushing a strand of red hair off of her forehead before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

Not matter how many times they did this, the thrill of feeling her body against his never seemed to fade. He felt like he was on fire- in the best possible way- and he found himself wishing that they could stay that way forever. And if they hadn't been separated by several layers of clothing...well, needless to say, that would have been even better.

Luckily, she seemed to feel the same way.

"You know how much I hate that jacket," Rachel muttered, rolling her eyes in mock disgust as she brushed a hand across his favourite leather garment. "It needs to come off. Now."

"Ah, come on," he shot back, pretending to resist. "What sort of girl doesn't like the James Dean wannabe look?"

He attempted to steal another kiss, but she turned her head to the side before he could reach her lips and shook her head resolutely.

Nico knew he had lost the battle- but this time, he didn't really care.

"_This_ girl likes the shirtless demigod look," she replied, reaching up to undo the first few buttons of his black dress shirt.

He laughed and shot her another wide smile.

"Well, I suppose that can be arranged."

Before he knew it, the jacket had been pushed to the floor, and Rachel had managed to undo the next two buttons on his shirt- it was hanging open now, and Nico could not deny that he felt a swell of satisfaction as she starred at his chest appreciatively.

As much as it sucked sometimes, being a demigod did have a few advantages- including the tendency to develop a fit body with relatively little effort. He hardly ever worked out anymore but, somehow, his muscles remained well toned. It must have had something to do with the divine genes and, for once, Nico wasn't complaining. Neither, it seemed, was Rachel.

"Much better," she murmured.

Unable to resist, he kissed her again, revelling in the feeling of her curvy chest against his. Unfortunately, she was much more concealed than he currently was, but he was willing to be that it was only a matter of time before that was remedied too. The mere thought sent a surge of pleasure through him, and he pulled her even closer than before.

Limbs intertwined, they stumbled across the office, taking short breaths between feverish kisses.

After another chaotic minute, he managed to pull off her cardigan (leaving only her thin tank top between them) before being gently pushed into her cushy office chair. She pulled back for a moment, a smile on her flushed face as she looked down at her now shirtless boyfriend.

Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were red, and one of her tank top straps had fallen half-way down her arm- she was completely dishevelled but, in Nico's eyes, she had never looked more alluring. She was gorgeous, and insane, and perfect- and he knew that the desire in her eyes echoed his own.

Gods, he wanted her so badly...but he knew things could only go so far.

It was, however, better than nothing, and he was happy to push the boundaries as far as they possibly could. Maybe one day, they would find a way...but even if they didn't, he knew that she would always be the only girl he wanted.

Now that they had broken apart, his body yearned for her warmth once again- and his desire for her overcame all other feelings. For a moment, he wasn't the cursed son of Hades- he was just Nico- just a guy who was lucky enough to have the affection of the most fantastic girl he had ever met.

That was all he ever wanted to be.

Rachel grinned and moved towards him once more, straddling his legs and placing herself backwards on his lap. Their faces were inches apart, and he could not resist the urge to pull her in for a long and deep kiss. His heart was pounding, and certain areas of his jeans were growing painfully tight- the pressure of having her on his lap...so close...it almost drove him mad.

And he was pretty sure that she knew it.

As she inched forward, he groaned in pleasure.

"Scopata," he murmured as she pulled back from another long kiss. "Lo guidate pazzesco."

He heard her giggle, and he could see her blush deepen. Soon after they had confessed their feelings, he had discovered that Rachel had a real thing for Italian guys, and he would be lying if he said that he hadn't used this to his advantage.

If she was going to push his buttons, he was certainly willing to push hers.

"Siete bello, Rachel," he whispered, leaning close to her left ear. He could feel her shiver on top of him and he knew that he was driving her almost as insane as she was driving him.

It was almost too simple.

"You're not making this easy, Nico." She whispered back, her hot breath brushing across his neck. "Apollo..."

"We'll stop." He replied, a slight pang in his chest at the thought of having to pull away before things went too far. "We always stop. But not yet."

He kissed her again, and the world around them seemed to fade away. There was only them, and nothing else mattered.

Nico moaned as he felt her hand drift towards his jeans- she brushed against him before fidgeting with the button and pulling down his zipper. He was thankful for the partial relief, but the feeling of her hand- _there_- was almost too much.

"Excited, aren't we?" Rachel asked playfully, inching even further up his lap and taking a quick glance down at his obvious arousal.

Nico could only nod weakly before their lips met once more. He gently thrust against her, groaning again as they pressed against each other and silently cursing his boxers and her jeans. He was on fire, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted her before.

Gods, he was going to lose his mind.

When they pulled apart, he could see her satisfied smile.

"Annabeth was right, you know," she muttered, "the whole 'big three' thing finally makes sense."

Despite the reminder of his parentage, and the fact that Rachel and Annabeth had clearly been talking about him and Percy, he gave her a smug grin.

It was advantage number two of being a demigod.

"I'm glad I helped clear up your confusion," he replied playfully.

Their lips met again, and he felt her hands slide down his chest as he reached behind her and slowly began to lift her tank top.

For a second, everything was perfect.

They were alone.

Together.

And the only thing that filled all of his senses was _her_.

But, unfortunately, it was not destined to last.

Quite unexpectedly, the door suddenly bust open- causing the two young lovers of cease their activities abruptly.

They both looked towards the door- breathless, dishevelled, and shocked.

For a moment, the only thing he noticed was a burst of yellow, and Nico was certain that Apollo had finally caught up with them.

Thankfully, however, it wasn't quite that bad.

Instead of seeing a very angry sun god, an annoyed and disgusted middle aged woman stood at Rachel's office door, a stack of papers in hand. She was wearing a yellow sweater and there was no mistaking her disapproval as she surveyed the scene.

"Sophia." Rachel squeaked, frantically adjusting her shirt and jumping off of her boyfriends lap.

Although he knew it was necessary, Nico wished she hadn't. He suddenly felt extremely exposed- after all, his shirt and jacket were in a heap across the room, and his jeans were currently unzipped. He silently thanked the gods for his boxers- and Rachel's desk- which partially blocked him from view.

"We were just..." Rachel began, her cheeks bright red and her gaze down at the floor. "Just heading out. For a walk."

Her co-worker, who Nico vaguely remembered seeing at the charity show (if he recalled correctly, she had sent him several nasty looks), looked unconvinced and shot him a particularly nasty glare.

"Of course" she said, her sarcasm evident. "Mr. Johnson just sent me to give you these pamphlets about the installation going up next week," she snapped, placing the stack of papers on a nearby table. "If you're not too busy fornicating, I suggest that you look them over this weekend."

Her tone was unfriendly, and Nico could tell that she had very little respect or admiration for Rachel. She made no effort to hide her distain and, had the situation been different, he wasn't sure if he could have resisted the urge to tell her off for being such a jerk. But, as it was, he was far too embarrassed and distracted to do much about the situation.

With a small huff, Sophia stepped out of the office.

"Have a lovely weekend, Rachel," she said, her voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. "I do hope you'll tell me all about your _walk_ on Monday. I hear that the cemeteries in New York are particularly nice this time of year."

As soon as she turned away and her yellow high heels clicking down the hall, Rachel shut the door and gave a sigh of relief.

"Well, that sucked."

Nico nodded in agreement as he got up from the chair and hastily grabbed his discarded shirt.

"No kidding."

Even though they were alone once again, there was no doubt that the mood was gone- and he silently cursed the middle aged woman for the unwelcomed intrusion.

And there was something else about the situation too- something odd that he couldn't quite place.

A sudden thought occurred to him.

"Don't you think it's a bit weird that she sai..." Nico began to speak, but the sound of Rachel's cell phone cut him off in mid sentence.

The young woman quickly fished it out of her purse, and looked down at the tiny screen.

"It's a text from Annabeth." She said, grabbing her own discarded shirt off of the floor. "She and Percy are already at the restaurant."

Nico grimaced. In all of the excitement, he had nearly forgotten why he had come in the first place- they had dinner plans and, once again, they were going to be late.

"Crap. We should hurry, or they are going to start getting suspicious." Rachel said hurriedly as she made a frantic attempt to smooth down her dishevelled hair.

Although they knew that their two closest friends would never betray them, the couple had decided not to tell anyone about their new developments quite yet. After all, even saying things out loud increased the potential of getting caught, and the less it was talked about, the better. For now, Percy seemed to be completely oblivious- but he was pretty sure that Annabeth had her suspicions- the daughter of Athena was much too observant for her own good.

Showing up late, and together, was only going to make things worse.

They were going to have to fess up sooner rather than later.

Doing up his shirt and throwing his jacket back on, Nico quickly ran a hand through his hair and wiped off a smudge that Rachel's lip gloss had left on his cheek.

"Okay, ready." He declared.

A few moments later, Rachel gave up on her hair and shrugged. "Good enough, I guess," she muttered, grabbing her purse and the pile of papers Sophia had dropped off.

"You look beautiful, il mio amore." Nico cut in, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

After giving him a quick peck on the cheek, Rachel opened the door and walked into the hallway. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and take her hand, but he knew he couldn't- it was too risky, and one close call was enough for the day.

They walked out of the gallery, several feet apart, doing their best to keep up the charade.

They didn't know it was already too late.

And they didn't know they were being watched...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A/N- Thoughts? Good? Bad? Over the top? Do let me know- reviews keep me going and I am interested to hear what people think of my attempt at semi-smutty romance!

As requested, some translations for you (I apologise to anyone who actually speaks Italian- I did my best):

Scopata- f**k

lo guidate pazzesco- you drive me crazy

siete bello- you're beautiful

il mio amore- my love


End file.
